


America, The Series

by Victorea_Ryan_Meadow



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, General, WAFF
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-15 11:35:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10555636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Victorea_Ryan_Meadow/pseuds/Victorea_Ryan_Meadow
Summary: A series of one-shots about America, one of the most stereotyped yet most interesting countries in the world. No pairings. Writing is so much more than a couple.





	1. America, The Polytheist

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia nor do I profit financially from writing this short piece.
> 
> Author's note: Inspired by my best friend, by my own heart, by the weakened yet still flickering spirit of America, and by the good people of all walks of faith everywhere.

He wears a cross around his neck. He always has since the days England and France had found him and spoke to him about God and religion.

He wears a Star of David next to the cross. He always has since the days the first Jewish settlers came to his lands and spoke of their loneliness, their desires to breathe easier in the face of an ever growing Christian population.

He carries the feathers of birds and the teeth of bears the tribes of his lands had given to him long before the appearance of the English, French, Finnish, Danish, and Spanish in his lands. Tears leak from his eyes when he feels the pain of those ancient peoples when they’re attacked for doing what’s right by themselves, by the land, and by all Americans.

He attends Wednesday mass and early Sunday morning mosque gatherings. He wears a bindi where his third eye would be. He casts a circle to honor and venerate Mother Earth, and he calls upon his Watchtowers to protect him and his people. 

In his home, he has placed statues of Vishnu and Krishna, of Lakshmi and Durga, of the Buddha, of Zeus and the Greeks, the Celts, Isis and her consort Osiris, Thoth and the Norse. He even found a rare Anansi statue, the trickster spider god of Africa. 

In the mornings, he shuffles a Tarot deck while having a book on astro-physics close by. He believes in something, he believes in nothing, he believes in everything. 

He is Alfred F. Jones, the living personification of the United States of America. He is of one religion. He is of all religions. He is of no religion. He is of a land where others come to break themselves free of their roots yet to cherish them all the same. He is of a land where no single God can rule over all, the ideas and diversity of so many too great and wondrous and _sacred_ to force upon each other. 

He is the United States of America, and his embracing the world the way that he does is what truly makes him the hero.


	2. America, the Multilinguist

They think he cannot understand them when they choose to speak in their native tongues. They think England had knocked the ability to speak in multiple languages after the French and Indian War, or the Seven Years’ War, as they called it, out of him. England certainly never hid his disdain for the others when they chose to be rude, in his words, by speaking in their native languages. America speaks English as well. Why would he not be the same? Yet, in truth, during the Great World Wars, he had been the one to translate everything coded in Italian, German, and Japanese, much like Japan had been translating everything . . . until America asked some of the Navajo to step in and send messages for him.

He sits quietly as he listens to Romano and Spain speak to each other in a rapid fire of mixed Spanish and Italian over some cute girls they happened to see on their way to the world meeting. The words roll off of their tongues with the greatest of ease, and he’s taken back in time to visiting Italian immigrants in Philadelphia, greeting them and welcoming them to his country. Melting butter, fried onions, and an array of Italian spices haunt his memories.

And the Spanish? He’s back in Mexico once more, a mariachi band playing on a nearby street corner while someone’s abuela pinches his cheek and tells him he’s too skinny, all the while handing him a plate piled with fresh tortillas stuffed with beans, cheese, meat, and veggies.

Or was it back to Cuba and to eating _vaca frita_ with the island nation and having one _granita_ too many? If it weren’t for the fact he’d just eaten lunch, his stomach would have rumbled at the pleasing memories. 

Mexico and Cuba join the two shortly, and both nations keep a wary eye on him as they both know he does not need a translator to understand them. Spain and Romano remain oblivious, which suits America just fine. Their conversation is light hearted, if a little bit strained - Spain’s relations with his former colonies have yet to improve - but they’re not tossing insults about other countries. America offers them a faint smile and a slight nod of his head. In his current state of contentment, he bears them no malice, no anything other than fond memories. Maybe he’ll approach them after the meeting and ask to take them out for tacos or something. There are taco trucks not too far from here.

While the four converse in Spanish solely now, France and Canada walk into the room. The two speak in French, as is their custom, and America tilts his head a little towards them. His grin widens a little when he hears his little brother chastising his former caretaker for getting a recipe wrong. It’s rare for Francis to do that, especially when he remembers Canada and the two get to cooking, but every now and then, Canada gets the upper hand on his former caretaker. When he does, it’s always a little amusing to see the chastised look on France’s face as well as the hints of pride in his former colony. His brother sees him, and he smiles a little, to which America offers his twin a tiny thumbs up and a wink. The two carry on as if Alfred isn’t there.

One by one, the rest of the nations arrive to the conference room, each clustering with other countries who speak similar languages. Each roll of the tongue, each syllable pronounced takes America back in time, back to when immigrants from those countries came to his lands, each seeking something better than what they’d had before, and bringing with them bright ideas. Even Russia has good memories for America, though he is keeping such thoughts to himself.

What the rest of the world has forgotten or doesn’t know will be his secret.

At least . . . for a little while longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again! Hope you enjoyed this story! I know I loved writing it.


	3. America, the Multicultural

If he looks at a list of festivals celebrated in his country, only a handful come up as noteworthy. Halloween, the Fourth of July, Memorial Day, Labor Day . . . Christmas . . . the list is short and seemingly complete, but he knows the truth. He knows otherwise.

He knows because he experiences everything happening in his country. He’s among the revelers at Mardi Gras, eating a packzi or two (who is he kidding? A dozen - the different flavors are always so tantalizing on his tongue, and it’s a day of indulgence anyway). He’s strolling along the tulips in Holland, Michigan, for their annual Tulip Festival, and enjoying the fruits of Traverse City’s Cherry Festival.

There are also the Chinese and Japanese festivals celebrated around his country and Cinco de Mayo. And it isn’t just the food that draws him to his people. It’s the languages and customs they’ve kept with them upon arriving on his shores, their homages to their homelands and to their ancestors. Traditions are more than just meals. Traditions brought to him have taught and reminded him how to revere the past,  _ his _ ancestry, painful and damaging as it is.

He is a little bit of everything from around the world. He might look like one thing, but he still has inherited so much from so many. It makes him uniquely him, bright and boisterous, dark and angry and vengeful, but, above all, kind and loving. And that’s how he likes it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Another itty bitty one-shot from me!  
> I should be on my way to Anime St. Louis this weekend, but my car needs at least one new tire before I do any more long distance traveling. Kind of sad, but there is always next year.  
> I will be at Tokyo in Tulsa with vendor space, selling books. If you're going to be there, look me up!  
> Anyway, about the one-shot. Seriously, it was . . . disappointing what the search engines were telling me about American festivals. They were basically listing major holidays, like the Fourth and Christmas, and I know that there are more celebrations than that in my country. I touched upon a few of the ones I know about and hinted that there were more. It's hard to imagine other cultures not bringing with them their own celebrations to this country.  
> We are a little bit of everything here in America.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. America, the World Traveler

When he starts to think too highly of himself, when he becomes aware of such things, he does the one thing he knows will humble him quickly. It isn’t calling up Arthur or Francis or even Matthew to have them berate him. Rather, it has the opposite effect on him, causing him to swell up his own ego even more.

Alfred F. Jones, the living personification of the United States of America, simply dusts off his backpack and takes off.

Of course, he lets his boss know he’s going to be gone, but he doesn’t tell the man to where. He knows he’s supposed to have an escort wherever he goes, even in his own country, but to have the escort defeats the purpose when he’s trying to revive his humanity.

Sometimes, he travels to the Grand Canyon, Niagara Falls, or any of his national parks. They are a part of him as much as the cities are, and they convey tremendous power, reminding him to be patient and determined. Great things come to those who do not lose their way.

Most of the time, he travels abroad. He knows the other countries know he’s there. They send their spies after him to make sure he’s not going where they don’t want him to go or to learn what they don’t want him to learn, but, for the most part, Alfred goes where  _ he _ wants to go. He loves standing in the circle of Stonehenge, of feeling the undercurrents of power flowing from one stone to the next. He enjoys walking through the ancient ruins in Greece, of recalling where his long deceased friends took ideas for their republic* and helped him to form into the nation he’d always dreamed of becoming.

The beauty of Norway’s fjords always astound him, and China’s wall? Respect for his once-ally courses through Alfred when he stands upon that ancient structure, knowing it was built to defend a people and not separate it.

He returns home a little happier for his travels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, a little abrupt for the ending. Not 100% happy with it, but also not 100% sure what else to do about it. Currently, it feels like if I add anything to it, I'll simply ruin the effect so . . . no. Not going to do that.
> 
> Sooo . . . onwards with the notes, which I will keep as brief as possible.
> 
> The only country I have currently traveled to is Canada. Being originally from Michigan, the first time in Canada was part of a Soo Locks tour, where they demonstrated how they got boats and ships from Lake Superior to Lake Huron (note: Lake Michigan is the only Great Lake completely in the United States but still protected under international treaty with Canada).
> 
> I would love to visit other countries, including China just to stand on the Great Wall and . . . feel. I can only imagine for myself at this moment just how . . . humbling being in such places can be. For Alfred, I imagine he's been to these places. Repeatedly and for a variety of reasons. I do see him as being able to keep his ego in check . . . when he thinks about it.  
> Thanks again for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Yep. Kind of at it again here, my fellow Hetalians. For those of you wondering about the fate of Dark Intentions, I have the next intermission to write and to restart Chapter 7 just yet. Aaaand I keep misplacing my paper with which countries are assigned to which chapters. (My bad.) I really have been super busy with work and with writing the third installation to my Arc of Fantasy series, Ravensrealm, under the pen name of Elise K. Ra'sha. (For more information on my originals, please drop me a line.) Hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! This is likely to be a series of one-shots at this point, about all of the things that I feel make the USA a great nation. It might be my own personal bias since I was born and raised here, but I've lived in different parts of the country now, and I've seen a lot of what makes my country a wonderful place, and it has nothing to do with outdated notions. Thanks again for reading!


End file.
